


Learning the Hard Way

by hannahsmetana



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, Pre-Pittsburgh, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahsmetana/pseuds/hannahsmetana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the pilot, Cooper tells Truman that he's learnt about dealing with local police enforcement "the hard way". This is my (rather far-fetched) imagining of the hard way.</p><p>“Diane, I am, I admit, more than a little annoyed. Thanks to our brothers in the SFPD, the suspect has evaded me. The case could very well be a bust...”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning the Hard Way

**Author's Note:**

> I am unclear about the timeline for Pittsburgh and so have arbitrarily dated this to my date of birth. It's meant to be earlier in Cooper's career, but not too early. 
> 
> Completely randomly I set it in San Francisco. I'm British - I've never been there. I just like the way SFPD rolls off the tongue. I was delighted to discover, while looking on google maps for a street name to use, that there is actually a part of San Fran called Twin Peaks. Complete fluke! Of course I then had to base the story in the vicinity. Daft not to really.
> 
> This is my first time writing in this fandom. I've not finished watching the series yet. I've just seen "The Condemned Woman" so if anything that comes after that makes a nonsense of this you'll understand why.

“Diane, I am, I admit, more than a little annoyed. Thanks to our brothers in the SFPD, the suspect has evaded me. The case could very well be a bust...”

* * *

** 24 hours earlier **

_“Diane, the time is fifteen forty-two pee-em, Friday August 3rd, 1984. I am still staking out the building that Lee Owens entered some... four and a half hours ago. Diane, it is_ hot _. Had I known I would be doing this sort of work I would have insisted on air conditioning in the rental. I have just eaten my last slice of cherry pie. Unfortunately, the heat made it somewhat less wieldy than the previous three slices and I’m afraid I spilt liquid jam all down my shirt. Unfortunately I had used the last of my napkins to mop up the coffee spill I mentioned earlier so I was unable to attempt to clean myself up. My only recourse was to remove the shirt and use it wipe the rest of the jam up. Hopefully the laundry service at the motel will prove themselves up to the task of removing it.”_

_“Diane, it is now sixteen oh five pee em. Still no sign of Owens, or anyone else for that matter. I hope-”_

_“Excuse me sir. Would you mind showing me some identif... Is that blood? Sir, I need you to place your hands on the-”_

_“Officer, I-”_

_“SHOW ME YOUR HANDS NOW!”_

_“If you’d just - argh!”_

_*scuffling, groaning, handcuffs*_

* * *

“Diane, I suppose I had better make my report, before my simmering anger clouds my recollection and judgement.

“As you are aware I was on stake out in an attempt to apprehend Lee Owens, catch him in the act, so to speak. You may recall that I was about to update you when I was interrupted by local law enforcement. They had apparently received a call about a suspicious man waiting near a school. Now, obviously I was the man, although, Diane, I hope you know me well enough by now to know that I do not make a habit of loitering around learning institutes, or anywhere else for that matter. However, it turns out that one of the nearby buildings is a private academy, a fact I was previously unaware of.

“As I stated in my report dated Wednesday 1st of August, eleven-seventeen ay-em, I had informed the local police force of my presence and therefore did not expect any issue to arise from that quarter. Unfortunately, Captain Ford at Park, to whom I reported my investigation, and who, I noted at the time, seemed particularly piqued by my arrival, did not see fit to pass my presence here on to his street units. An oversight which may _very_ well cost us this CASE... I’m sorry Diane. I shall try to remain objective through the rest of this report.

“As you have no doubt surmised, the arresting officer - one Officer Jay Wolowski - overreacted somewhat to the cherry stained shirt on my seat, and rather than ascertaining my purpose and identity decided to forcibly take me into custody.

“Diane, until today I had thought mace spray to be a suitably non-violent alternative to the handgun. However, having now suffered the effects first hand, I would say that I would hesitate to use it on anyone that I would not shoot. I can only describe it as a brief venture to Hades. Not only does it sting like a, well, a mother fucker - excuse me - it forces the air from your lungs, punches you in the gut, engulfs your senses like nothing I have ever experienced before, or hope to again. Diane, while I know that a woman cannot be too careful in this day and age, a handgun might be a preferable alternative to ward off any would be attackers. At least that way you know that persistence on the part of your would-be attacker is worthy of the retaliation.

“Now, Diane, you might be forgiven for thinking that once I was in custody the discovery of my identity would ensure my quick release, with suitable apologies and even reparations. As it turns out, discovering my identity was not high on the priority list of our illustrious colleagues in the Police Department. Nor was my comfort. I regret to inform you, Diane, that I was treated most cruelly by the custody officers at the precinct, no doubt thanks to the fact I was brought in as a potentially violent pervert.

“Diane, in contravention of a number of protocols I was left cuffed and covered in mace in an interview room for some three hours before anyone asked me who I was. When I told them I was F.B.I. they merely laughed and left the room. I should have mentioned that at this point I was wearing only my vest and pants after my cherry pie spillage, which I suspect may have undermined my credibility somewhat. My credentials and my wallet were in my jacket pocket, which remained inside my rental car, which had been left on Panorama Drive to be impounded.

“The next time someone entered the room I demanded I be allowed to wash my face. No, I didn’t demand. Diane, I begged. I’ll admit I cannot remember feeling more humiliated in my entire life. Although it appears mace dissipates over time, my eyes were still streaming, my nose was running and my breath was still raspy. Not to mention the lousy headache and nausea which appear to be among the effects of that vicious chemical. Fortunately the officer at that point took pity on me. When I got into the bathroom I could see why. I looked like I’d been weeping like a little girl weeps for her lost puppy. Frankly, it might have come to that had I had to endure any more time in that state.

“Upon returning to the interview room I reiterated my identity, and explained my presence at Panorama Drive. I also mentioned that I had spoken to Captain Ford. Unfortunately Ford had already left for his two week holiday. With no way to verify my claims I was placed in holding to await the return of my belongings from the impound lot.

“Diane, you are not going to believe me when I tell you, the car never made it to the lot. It was picked up by the tow truck, that much is certain. However, both the tow truck and the car have yet to return to the lot. At times like these, Diane, I can only assume that I am compensating - karmically speaking - for some past or future transgression. I just hope it’s something from a previous existence rather than something yet to come in this one.

“Oh, Diane, remind me to get a thank you gift for Albert. I’ve never been so happy to see his grimacing face as when he came to release me from holding. Happily I had arranged to meet him to run down the findings of the forensics work he’d been doing on the case. From our previous cases Albert appears to have developed a sixth sense for when I find myself in awkward predicaments. Not that he would ever admit to something so intangible as premonition, of course. Needless to say, Albert chased around the city until he came upon my arrest report. He rather bluntly stated that he knew it was me because no other police report contained the words “psychotic, deranged madman.” Despite his complete lack of charm, I have to say that, once again, I’m grateful to have Albert working alongside me.

“So, Diane, that brings us about up to date. In total I spent 21 hours in custody, during which time, of course, Owens is long gone. But we’ll get him, Diane. We’ll get him.”


End file.
